


Eagleheart

by AmadeusRex



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Family Bonding, Gen, Sibling Bonding, Tattoos, World of Ruin, a bright spot in the long night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 01:48:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20381683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmadeusRex/pseuds/AmadeusRex
Summary: Each son of House Amicitia who rises to become the sworn shield of Lucis is tattooed with an eagle. It represents honor, duty, loyalty. The strength to protect others. It is an outward manifestation of the courage within the shield’s heart.It's time for Iris to wear the wings.Written for theEver at Your Side zine, run bylittlecakes!





	Eagleheart

**Author's Note:**

> I contributed this fic to the Ever at Your Side zine, which was dedicated to the friendships of the FFXV universe. I decided to write about Gladio and Iris because I had the idea that it would be Gladio who would take Iris to get tattooed, and it would be a great moment to strengthen the already ironclad bond between them. I love that they're so close despite the years between them, and I know that the long night only brought them closer, despite us not seeing Iris after the timeskip :') I hope you enjoy this fic!

**** _ Each son of House Amicitia who rises to become the sworn shield of Lucis is tattooed with an eagle. It represents honor, duty, loyalty. The strength to protect others. It is an outward manifestation of the courage within the shield’s heart. _

That’s how it was. Before the fall of Insomnia, before the long night, before the last of the line of Lucis disappeared. Now, the tattoo is just a bitter reminder of Gladiolus’ failures.

As it stands now, he will be the last to wear the wings. Unless he passes them on.

It’s been three years since Noct entered the crystal. Three years of nothing but death and darkness and destruction. Most people have grown weak and begun to despair, but some have only grown stronger. Iris is one of them.

She’s grown in every way; she’s taller, leaner, and more compassionate than ever. She’s still Gladiolus’ younger sister, but she is no longer his  _ little _ sister. She’s every inch a shield, and Gladiolus plans to honor that.

He returns to the apartment he shares with Iris and Talcott one night, beaten and tired from another ‘day’ in the darkness. Iris is waiting for him, sitting at the dinner table, mending clothes to sell secondhand. Her head perks up when she hears the thud of her brother’s boots at the door.

“Gladio!” Iris is in his arms in an instant, hugging him with everything she has. They’re lucky to have each other; there are far too few families in the world now. She lets go and helps him set his bags on the table. “How was your day?”

“Good. I got a surprise for you,” Gladio says. Iris smiles and starts rummaging through his bags, but stops when she hears Gladio laugh. “It’s not a thing. Sit down.”

So she does, and Gladio sits across from her. He takes off his jacket and rolls up the sleeve of his shirt. He traces the tattoo that wraps around his arm. “Remember the day I got the first feathers done?”

“How could I not? You were whining about how much it hurt for weeks.” Iris snickers, smiling up to her eyes. “What’s this got to do with my surprise, though?”   


Gladio puts his hand over his heart. No need to drag it out, he supposes.

“I want you to wear the wings.”

Iris’ eyes widen, and she draws back a little. Her eyes begin to glisten, and she wipes at them preemptively. “For real?”

Gladio nods. “For real.” He takes Iris’ hands in his own and looks her dead in the eye. “You’re as much a shield as I am. The only difference is that I went through all the pomp and circumstance. I know you can take care of yourself, but I want you to take care of Noct, too. In case anything happens to me.”

Iris squeezes Gladio’s hands, then wipes at her eyes again. She’s crying, but, more importantly, she’s smiling. Gladio can’t remember the last time he saw her smile so widely, so genuinely. He reaches out to ruffle his sister’s hair.

“Hey now, don’t cry. If you keep it up, I might start.” And it’s true. Gladio feels tears pricking his eyes, and they’re accompanied by the swell of pride in his chest. Iris isn’t the little girl who got lost in the Citadel anymore; she’s grown into a woman who would make their parents proud.

“Sorry, sorry,” Iris says as she wipes away her tears. “It’s just...I never thought that I’d get to wear them…. You always seemed so invincible growing up. Even when you got scars, even when you broke bones, you always got back up. I didn’t think I’d ever  _ need _ to wear the wings. Besides, aren’t they a guy thing?”

Gladio laughs. “You think I’m gonna stick with that old tradition? I’m the head of the Amicitia now, so I make the rules. And my rules say that you get the wings.”

Iris beams again, and Gladio can’t help but return her smile.

* * *

“Okay, Gladdy, real talk,” Iris calls from her desk, behind piles of scrap fabric. “I’ve been thinking about the tattoo. How’m I supposed to, y’know, fight, or even  _ move _ while I’m healing? You couldn’t train for weeks after you first got tattooed, not to mention all the repeat visits you needed to fill everything in.”

She has a point. Gladio hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. He stares into the suds of the dishes he’s washing, looking for an idea.

“You’re right.” He turns the faucet off and dries his hands. He pulls a chair up to Iris’ desk and sits next to her. “How about we start small? Just a little right now, and then I promise to take you to get the whole thing once the sun’s up again.”

“Promise? Like the time you promised you’d wear my moogle pin to your Crownsguard induction ceremony, then let Dad take it?” Iris’ tone is accusatory, but the mischievous twinkle in her eye tells Gladio she’s just kidding.

“Hey now, that wasn’t my fault!” Gladio reaches out and ruffles Iris’ hair. She giggles, but doesn’t push him away. His hand is still on her head when she speaks again.

“Starting small, huh? How about….” She sets the shirt she was mending down and traces around her shoulder and upper arm. Her finger eventually settles on the center of her deltoid. “Here?”

Gladio rolls up the sleeve of his shirt and inspects his own left arm. There’s more than enough feathers there for Iris to take her pick. He smiles at her.

“Looks good to me. I’ll book an appointment at the shop for you as soon as possible. Do you have any hunts lined up?”

Iris shakes her head. “Nope. I’ll be in Lestallum all month to help with the new wave of refugees.”

Although his sister is trying her hardest to speak matter-of-factly, Gladio can see the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. It’s reassuring to know that the little things can still make Iris happy; not enough people have it in them to be happy nowadays.

Gladio stands up and stretches. “Guess I better make a call.”

* * *

A week later, Iris is seated in a battered chair that’s certainly seen better days, getting her arm disinfected with rubbing alcohol. Gladio sits to her right, marvelling at how calm she is; he was all nerves when he first got tattooed, and it had shown. He had been shaking, eyes screwed shut as his wings were drawn on his skin, feather by feather. Iris blinks a few times when the needle first pierces her skin, but that’s all.

For the next hour, Gladio holds Iris’ hand as a silent affirmation of his support. She squeezes it a couple of times during the session, more for Gladio’s comfort than her own. Iris makes easy conversation with the artist as time passes, discussing everything from the meanings of the Hunters’ tattoos, to what they think will become of Lestallum once day breaks again. She smiles the whole time, eagerly trying to take a peek at her arm whenever the artist pauses.

As soon as they break for the artist’s lunch, Iris inspects her arm in the mirror. Her face falls when she sees her skin is puffy and red under the ink.

“What’s wrong?” Gladio asks. Iris looks up at him, pouting.

“I just thought...it would look nicer at this point, that’s all.” She heaves a sigh. “I know they need to heal before they look nice, but we’ve been here a while. Shouldn’t we at least be done?”

Gladio chuckles, and Iris punches his arm.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just that I know what’s going on so well that I guess I assumed you did, too.” He pats Iris’ shoulder. “Don’t worry about the swelling. We’ll take care of that once you’re done. As for the time, I told her to go slow and take as much time as she needs to give you perfect wings. Only the best for my sister, the future shield of Lucis.”

Iris gives Gladio a shove, but it’s more playful this time. “Hey, don’t say that. You’re the only shield Noct needs, and he’ll be back before you know it. With luck, I’ll never have to be his shield.” She gasps. “Unless...you plan on retiring?”

“You callin’ me old? Watch it, kid!” Gladio feints at Iris, who hops back into the safety of the chair. She thumbs her nose at him as the artist resumes her work. They laugh at each other, and Gladio takes his seat by Iris’ side again. The next hour is filled with more chatter as the feather is filled in, with neither Iris nor Gladio able to stop smiling.

As soon as the artist is done, Iris looks at her arm in the mirror again, this time admiring it. She thanks the artist profusely as Gladio pays, and as soon as they’re home, Iris hugs her brother as hard as she can.

“Thank you,” she says, and Gladio hears that she’s choked up.

“Hey, now, why are you crying? I’ll cry too, remember?” But it’s too late; he’s already got tears in his eyes. He tries to blink them back, only for them to fall out anyway.

“Sorry, it’s just...I’m really happy. I just hope Dad would be proud of me and think I’m good enough for this.” She lets go of Gladio and wipes at her eyes.

“I know he is. Dad, Mom, everyone. They’re all proud of you.  _ I’m _ proud of you. You’re a real Amicitia, Iris. Don’t let anyone make you think otherwise.”

Iris sniffs. “Thanks, Gladdy.” She hugs him again, burying her face into his shoulder. “You’re the best brother anyone could ask for.”

Gladio is so happy, so proud that he feels he might burst. But he doesn’t have the words to describe that to Iris, so he just hugs her back. It’s like they’re kids again, huddling together to hide from their father during a game of hide-and-seek, or to keep warm during camping trips.

Though they may not always be together in this world of ruin, Gladio and Iris are never alone.


End file.
